As the Clock Ticks
by Oriviurr
Summary: Izaya never was normal enough to be considered human. Shizaya.
1. 12:00

**Hello again!**

**I know I said I was busy, but this has been annoying me for ages. I'm not sure when I'll finish the second chapter, so there's no guarantee of anything. I might not even finish this. I was bored waiting for my Irish oral, there was nothing to do, this happened. It's a bit short, but I'm hoping I can increase the size with future chapters.**

**Anyway, I'm pretty much going for this thing to be themed around time. How original. Each chapter will represent a quarter of the clock (E.g. This chapter's at 12:00, next one will be at 3:00, and so on). Just because 3:00 follows 12:00 does not mean the chapter will be set three hours after. The 3:00 I'm working on is supposed to be 3:00 _pm_, while this is 12:00 _am_. Get it?**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**12:00 AM**

There was fire.

There was so much fire. Flames licked and curled around his haven, taunting him as he worked frantically to mend the rusty machinery. He heard screams of terror and wailing from the outside and quickened his shaking hands, determined to find a way out, to escape. A robotic cry, screaming out the word that all Gallifreyens had grown to fear, made him freeze in fright. He waited for around ten seconds, before letting his breath out in a relieved sigh and adding the finishing touches to his project.

It was done. A relieved chuckle fled from his lips as he took a step back to examine his work. The helmet looked slightly hazardous, but if his calculations were correct (and they always were), then it would be perfectly safe for the job intended. He placed the helmet around his head, feeling it push against his skull. He fondly stroked his craftsmanship, touching the the subtle dents. It had been destroyed and abandoned when he'd come across it. He'd rescued it. He reached for the most important part, the pocket watch that was to contain everything he was, and placed it in the machine anxiously. He looked around the room, the sentient machine, that he resided in.

"Thank you."

There was a slight whirring noise that probably translated as 'Get a move on!'. That was so much like her. He chuckled, setting the contraption to make sure his name remained the same, if not similar. He liked his name, it suited him well. It was why he picked it. He looked up, finger over the 'start' button, and decided he wasn't going without a touch of the drama he was so well known for.

"Toodles."

And then Izaya woke up.

He clutched his sheets tightly, his thoughts erratic and fearful. What the hell was that? It had felt so... _real_. Did it mean anything? Izaya dismissed the idea from his jumbled thoughts as soon as it arrived. Of course it didn't. It was only a dream, albeit one that had shook him, and he should just go back to sleep.

Although...

He looked over to his LED alarm clock. It read 2:43. Goddamn, who'd still be awake? He grabbed his phone off the dresser and flicked through his contact list. Nope...no...wants to kill him...nope...Shinra! Shinra would surely be awake, dissecting some unfortunate cat or something. He called the number and lay back, breathing deeply.

_"Hello?"_

"Oh, hey Shinra," he mumbled, sighing in relief.

_"Oh, Izaya. Do you know what time it is?! ...Are you alright? You sound kind of strange."_

"I'm fine just... Do you know anything about strange dreams?"

A sigh.

_"Izaya, I'm a doctor, not a psychic. Go back to sleep," Shinra muttered, hanging up._

Izaya hesitated, considering calling back, before deciding that Shinra was probably right. He should just go back to sleep and forget the nightmare. He flopped back into bed and shut his eyes tightly, willing himself to forget.

Which was harder than it seemed.


	2. 3:00

**Hi there. I am going to collapse.**

**I hate studying so much, I decided the only chapters I'd study are anything I can put Hetalia comparisons onto. For example, population variations in Italy. ****But yeah, here you go. Have another chapter, you funny people.**

**Oh and, Izaya's watch is so Canada. "Who are you?" "I'm Izaya's watch…"**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**3:00 PM**

"This is the fifth time you've been to my apartment in the past week, Izaya."

Izaya pouted and slumped back into the sofa, crossing his arms. Well, it wasn't his fault, was it? It was Shizuo's fault for being such a stupid, fucking protozoan. Damn him. Izaya had only been having a little fun! Shizu-chan had taken it too seriously, as per usual. It was only a little possible jail time! Their game was boring anyway, Shizuo had been catching him with heavy objects much more often lately. He supposed it was probably because of his lack of sleep. Stupid weird nightmares. He uncrossed his arms, winced in pain, and put them in his pockets, gripping his stopwatch absentmindedly.

He didn't remember exactly when he'd gotten the stopwatch, it was just always there, to be honest. It tended to blend into the background. Come to think of it, he never really noticed it until now. He pulled the thing out of his pocked and scrutinised it closely. The front was covered in a circular pattern that looked like it had escaped from a sci-fi film and the clasp appeared to be broken, although Izaya wasn't exactly an expert on antique watches. Suddenly, a loud smash pulled him out of his examination, forcing him to look up.

Celty stood nearby, stock still, the hand that previously held her coffee trembling. The remains of what used to be a mug covered the floor and her whole form shaked fearfully.

"Celty, love, are you alright?" Shinra asked, worry lacing his tone.

The Dullahan didn't answer, instead continuing to stare, or well, as much as a headless horse rider _could _stare, in fright. Izaya followed her nonexistent gaze, determined to find out what had shook her so much, and realised she was staring at his _pocket watch_. Just as he figured this out, she seemed to snap out of her fear and ran up to him, typing furiously on her little phone thing.

[Where did you get that?]

Huh? Izaya looked at her strangely. "I don't know, I've just always had it I suppose. Why do you want to know?"

This only seemed to put her on edge even more. Izaya was surprised that her phone didn't break, she was gripping it that hard.

[Is it broken?]

"Y-yeah, at least, I think so..."

At this, she grabbed the watch out of Izaya's hands, ignoring both his and Shinra's protests, and just held it. What the actual hell?! What could possibly come out of holding something for a length of time? After a bit of awkward staring from him and Shinra, she gave it back to him and typed something else.

[When you're the Prophet again, leave. You're dangerous. I care about these people.]

Prophet? "How am I a prophet? And I thought we had all agreed that I'm dangerous."

For an answer, Celty simply tapped the watch, her stare almost glare-like.

What?

"Uh, Celty, dear. What's up with you? What's so important about Izaya's watch?" Shinra asked, probably worrying about her sanity. Izaya didn't blame him.

Celty elbowed him in the stomach, making her displeasure at the thought of elaborating clear.

Izaya looked back down at the watch, admiring the craftsmanship on display. He rubbed a thumb over one of the circular marks fondly. Somehow, they felt so familiar, but instead of making him scared, they calmed him. It was incredibly strange. They almost reminded him of who he was.

It was a feeling akin to hearing your own name.

"Well, you're all patched up," Shinra said, breaking Izaya out of his thought. "Do try to not piss Shizuo as much. I'm wasting valuable medical equipment on you," the doctor muttered wearily. The minute the words had come out of his mouth, he'd given up hope in them.

"Thanks Shinra, but Shizuo-chan is simply too much fun to ignore. Buh bye!" Izaya called, grabbing his coat and waving happily back at the doctor. He left Shinra's apartment and strolled down the street, intending to walk home as the weather was fine. His mind once again drifted towards the watch. Why had Celty been surprised? Had the fairy seen it before...? And was the reason she had said something about him being a prophet related to the watch? Wait! His name was based off of some religious prophet called Isaiah or something. He remembered his parents telling him about it. Was that it? If so, how did Celty know simply because of the watch?

Izaya wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.


	3. 6:00

**IT BROKE!**

**The first time I tried to post this it broke completely and I don't know why, ughh. Here's to another try.**

**Because you very obviously want to know why Celty doesn't like Time Lord!Izaya, I'm going to write you an extra chapter when this is more or less finished. Because I love you guys and your reviews make my day.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**6:00 PM**

Izaya tore his flat apart, searching for his missing journal._ Where was it?_ Namie was going to kill him later for the mess, but that wasn't the most pressing issue on his mind. He needed to find the journal. If anyone were to read the absolute nonsense the small book contained, his reputation would be ruined. Not to mention he would probably be put in a mental asylum. They probably wouldn't even let him keep his knife.

He had started writing the diary a couple of months ago, when his strange dreams had become too much for him to handle. He would wake up, write any new information, and then go back to sleep. Simple as that. Of course, he'd never expected to lose the damn thing. _Think Izaya, think_. When did he last have it? Oh yeah! He had thrown it in his pocket to read through when he went to Russian Sushi and then... oh no. _Oh God no._ He had met Shizuo outside and they'd 'danced' a little before he ran off home. Dammit! It must have fallen out of his pocket!

He fell onto his couch in defeat, putting his head in his hands. He was screwed beyond belief. He was so lost in his pessimism, he almost didn't hear the ringing phone on the coffee table. He peeked through his hands to check the caller ID and got the fright of his life. _Shizu-chan?!_ Why the hell would Shizu-chan be calling him?! Horrifying scenarios that would cause the strongest man in Ikebukuro to call the person he hated most started to rush through his head. Was Shinra dead? Was Dotachiin dead? Were the twins dead?

The only way to find out was to answer the phone.

He brushed a hand through his hair and reached for the ringing object warily. Pressing the answer button, he held his breath, expecting the worst.

_"Missing something, flea?"_

He exhaled sharply. "Huh?"

_"What is up with you lately? You keep acting weird. It's unnerving."_

He was? Izaya regained his composure fairly quickly, smirking deviously.

"Aww... am I unnerving you? You poor primate."

_"Shut up. You dropped your diary, flea," _Shizuo growled, his anger managing to show even through a call.

_What? _"Wait you found it? And it's not a diary!" he snapped defensively.

_"Yeah, I'm going over to Shinjuku to give it back to you. Don't do anything that makes me want to kill you even more than I already do before I get there."_

And he hung up.

Izaya stood still for a second, shocked, before brushing a shaking hand through his spiky hair. Shizuo was coming over._ Shizuo _was coming over. How the hell was he supposed to get ready? Monster-proof the heavy objects? Glue them to the ground with incredibly strong glue? He was going to have to spend so much money on repairs by the time Shizuo left, and all because he had been an idiot and lost his stupid journal. Wait. Had Shizu-chan seen what was _in_ his journal? If so, Izaya was dead. He groaned, slumping back into the sofa. There goes his reputation.

Suddenly the door was slammed open to reveal the monster of Ikebukro himself, dressed in his usual bartender outfit with a cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth, completing his 'Look-at-me-and-I'll-fucking-kill-you' expression perfectly. One hand was in his trouser pocket, while the other held a nondescript black notebook, which Izaya recognised to be his. Izaya's heartbeat quickened, and he convinced himself that it was out of fear for his personal belongings. Definitely not because of how perfectly messed up Shizuo's dyed hair was. Nope. Not at all. He suddenly realised that they were just standing there in an awkward silence, and decided that he had to fix that.

"Hey Shizu-chan!" he cried, standing up and bounding over to the angry man. "Can I have my journal back please?"

"Once you tell me what the stuff inside it means," Shizuo grunted, opening it on a random page and holding it up for Izaya to see while he looked around with quirked eyebrows at the destroyed apartment.

Scratchy drawings of four people covered the page. They were the four different faces of the person who kept appearing in Izaya's dreams. Which was odd, because Izaya was certain that normal people didn't change their faces. Unless his nightly visitor really liked plastic surgery. But that still didn't explain the time travel.

The first drawing was of a child. The child's hair was pitch black and just about touched his shoulders. His eyes were a rich amethyst purple, burning with the fire of his youth, and a stubborn expression rested on his young face. His lithe frame was covered in all manners of black and white robes (_Redlooms _his mind whispered. _Black and white are the colour of Redlooms_). The child was young and untainted with happiness reaching every corner of his smile. A drastic contrast to the next picture.

The next picture was of a young adult. Choppy white hair flew out in all directions from his solemn face, giving him the look of someone trying his best to be taken seriously and failing miserably. His eyes were a mystical pale blue, and reminded Izaya of the sky, the sea, and everything in between. Once again, he donned black and white robes, but they appeared more extra agent this time. he really didn't look like a man to mess with.

The next picture was of a friendly looking man with long, blue hair, tied back in a ponytail. He was smiling softly, chin rested in an idle hand as he stared into the distance. He was at peace. Once again, his clothes were monochrome, although they were drastically more casual than those of his previous incarnations. A black hoodie-like garment covered a white t-shirt, or what looked like a t-shirt, and his trousers were black and well fitted.

The next picture was of Izaya. He wasn't sure as to why, but it's what had made itself clear.

Shizuo stared at him expectantly, conveying the message that he wasn't going to leave until he got his answer. After a few seconds of silent war stares, Izaya gave in.

"I... I don't know," he muttered, slightly embarrassed. Fuck, he couldn't hold up his usual personality like this!

"Fuck's sake flea, I knew you were insane, but this is another level," Shizuo growled, eyes narrowing.

"I just don't fucking know anymore protozoan! Writing that shit down is the only way I can keep myself from snapping! Every goddamn night I get another set of insane nightmare-things and I _just can't handle it a-anymore! _The informant yelled, exploding in a bout of pent-up rage. His eyes teared up and he stumbled backwards blindly, only to find himself caught by something that felt suspiciously like a human body.

Shizuo had caught him.

_Shizuo _had caught him and was now _holding him to his chest._

"Y-you're crying..." the monster stuttered, staring at him with wide fearful eyes.

"N-no shit, Sh-Sherlock..." Izaya sobbed, attempting to pull away.

Then Izaya felt his face press against Shizuo's chest as the man's arms wrapped even tighter around him. Shizuo had... hugged him?

"Wh-what the hell, protozoan?!" he snapped in shock, struggling weakly against Shizuo's hold.

"I can't just sit back when someone's crying, even if they are annoying fleas."

Silence reigned.

"Are you going to let me go if I ask?"

"Nope."

"Ugh, fine then."

They sat like that for a while. Just for a bit, they could pretend that the rest of the world didn't exist. Only Izaya and Shizuo. Nothing else. All their worries and problems were banished to the back of their minds as they embraced each other. Shizuo awkwardly wiped Izaya's tears away with the sleeve of his bartender's outfit as the informant attempted to quell his childish sobbing.

"I... I should, um, leave," Shizuo mumbled, pushing himself off of the ground and shoving his hands into his pockets quickly.

He was almost sad. _Sad? What the hell?! _The thought of almost liking Shizuo's presence made him feel sick. How could he like _Shizuo_? They had been enemies _forever_. You can't just like (or a bit more than like) someone you've hated intensely since high school.

"Uh, yeah. Whatever, Shizu-chan," he muttered, attempting to keep his façade in place.

There was a bit of awkward staring, before Shizuo snapped back into the real world, and stumbled out of Izaya's not-so-pristine apartment, throwing the journal onto the destroyed couch on the way out. Izaya watched him go, longing to find the nerve to make him stop and come back. He needed more comforting.

He would call him later and organise a date. Definitely.


	4. 9:00

**Well, I'm an awful writer. I should have updated this ages ago, but I had to go on holiday and Summer started and ****_tumblr._**** Oh lord, ****_tumblr_****.**

**So yeah, really sorry. I'm also caught up with a load of half written Spamano oneshots, so they might be a thing soon. One can only hope. This is much smaller than I hoped, by the way. Sorry about that as well. There's gonna be one more proper chapter, but do you guys want a chapter with the Prophet and Celty? Because I didn't actually plan on telling the story behind those two, but I suppose I can if there's demand. Have fun with 10 by the way, he's in this chapter.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**9:00 PM**

The two were quite a sight.

They were strolling through the packed street, softly lit by the warm sunset calling to the end of another busy day for Ikebukeroers near and far, ignoring the stares as people fearfully wondered whether the apocalypse was upon them. Every now and again, one of the smaller male's contacts would walk up to the larger and offer him whatever he wanted for the safe return of the man he had supposedly 'kidnapped'. No to mention the friends of the larger who would freak out and dial 999, asking for the police in panicked voices.

So yeah, the relationship was going well.

They'd just begun their walk back to Izaya's apartment after dinner at Russian Sushi, which Simon had managed to get them for free (Shizuo had mentioned his sneaking suspicion that the intimidating Russian had payed for the whole thing himself and they'd both agreed to put in some money to leave as a hefty tip for him, as thanks). They'd started to hold hands after about the fifth stare because they were sick of the shock and both had a little desire to mess with the world, because damn those idiots who thought just because you throw a few vending machines and flick a few knives means you can't be in a healthy relationship. They'd managed it after all.

"I'll text you later then, Shizu-chan?" Izaya suggested as they reached Shizuo's apartment. His boyfriend merely grunted, not nearly as annoyed by the name as he was previous to the 'diary incident', as they'd dubbed it.

"Sure," he muttered, pulling Izaya close in order to awkwardly kiss him on the head before turning and walking briskly to the building, his face bright red.

Izaya smirked at his boyfriend's awkwardness. The fact that they were actually together had helped so much when it came to dealing with his new anxiety. He walked down the pavement, smiling happily and scaring children, as he thought over their relationship. Their first date had been spectacular, if you decided not to count the fact Shinra had given them both therapy the next morning. It was nice to see that the doctor cared, at the very least.

He was dragged out of his reverie by someone suddenly grabbing his arm and pulling him into an alleyway. Instantly, Izaya was on his guard. He whipped out his knife and held it threateningly at the person, before pausing.

Did he know this guy?

His attacker was strange to say the least. His hair stuck up in a wild fashion which, accompanied by his scruffy long coat draped over a loosely fitting suit, made him seem slightly insane. His facial expression did nothing to fight this thought, as his eyes were large and stared at Izaya with a strange expression. Like he had just found something he'd given up searching for a long time ago.

"Who are you?" Izaya mumbled, his voice seeming to come from a million miles away. This seemed to shock the man out of his study. He opened his mouth to speak, before closing it again and scrunching his face up.

"I'm the Doctor. You're... the Prophet." There it was again. That name.

"I'm not... My name is Izaya Orihara. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh," the Doctor murmured. "Oh! I get it! You used the- yes!" His face broke into a grin.

"Well, Izaya Orihara, I must get going. People to see, planets to save. Good luck with your watch," he said, shaking Izaya's limp hand excitedly.

"My watch!?" Izaya exclaimed. "How do you know about that?"

The Doctor turned around and tapped his nose. "All in good time." He skipped away, and after a few seconds of shocked staring, Izaya ran after him, just in time to catch him enter a blue 'Police Box'.

"Hey! Izaya!" He turned to see Shinra waving at him. _Not now Shinra, dammit_. He turned back again, but...

_The box had disappeared_.


End file.
